


Learn To Fly

by DemonDean10



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Changelings, Druids, Familiar Yoko, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Human Paul, Human Ringo, M/M, Magic, Owl Bob, Owl George, Potions, Wizard AU, Wizard John, kidnappings, torture later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDean10/pseuds/DemonDean10
Summary: Paul is a simple but happy farmer. His life was completely normal until he got lost in the woods and chased by wolves.John is a simple but happy wizard. His life was completely normal until he found an unconscious farmer in the woods.They come from completely different worlds, yet are more similar than they know. Both are fascinated by each other, and fascination doesn't travel alone.





	1. Meeting in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this was originally gonna be a mclennon big bang thing but then i got too confused by it and how it worked so now im posting it on its own. 
> 
> yeah its another fantasy AU but its totally diff. from my merman AU. so.
> 
> I hope you like.

Paul McCartney was a young man that lived to the north of his home city, Liverpool. He was twenty five years old and the proud owner of a fine farm. He had lambs, rams, cows, horses, pigs, and planted plenty of vegetables. There was a problem with the vegetables though, a batch of them were stolen every week. It was always carrots, cabbages, radishes, aubergines, peppers, and cucumbers. Half of Paul’s supply of them disappeared in the middle of the night, and had he more money he would have a camera installed.

 

Paul didn’t live alone. He had Linda Eastman, his stable hand, and Ringo, his shepherd. All three of them were very close friends for years now. There was also Brian Epstein, Paul’s accountant who visited often.

 

Overall, Paul’s life was pretty good. His father and brother lived back in Liverpool but they wrote and called to each other all the time. He wasn’t married but he had Martha his sheepdog to make him happy, with no time for a wife.

 

He had always considered himself lucky to have found his farm. The land around Liverpool wasn’t fertile, but his farm was extremely successful and bore great results, it was almost unnatural.

 

On a cold English afternoon farmer Paul was wandering the forest around his property. It was something he often did, just walk around the trees and the little animals and think about life. He thought about his crops, his animals, farmer things. But that day he was feeling particularly tired after having to chase three chickens around all morning. Lula, Lulu, and Luli they were called. Horrible, terrible chickens. 

 

So Paul decided to take a nap underneath a large oak and next to a small stream. He covered himself with his cape like coat and curled his legs to keep warm. Paul closed his eyes and soon he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

He woke up with a start, a roar of thunder awakening him. Paul opened his eyes and found that night had fallen and the skies had opened. The young man cursed and quickly got to his feet, sliding in the mud. He adjusted his coat and started to run in what he believed was the direction of his home. 

 

But it soon became apparent, after encountering unfamiliar trees and boulders, that he had been wrong. Paul got to a small clearing and desperately looked around for the familiar path he had walked through earlier. 

 

But it was not to be found. Paul groaned and tried to see through the rain and darkness. He went still as the howls of wolves reached his ears. 

 

Scared, Paul ran from the clearing through a slightly bare way. He felt more than heard those wolves chasing him, the forest trembling behind him. He reached another clearing before he actually saw one, a large black wolf with a snarling snout. 

 

Paul froze as two others appeared behind the leader, mouths salivating as they gazed at him. He took a small step backwards and that was it. 

 

Paul frantically ran as the wolves jumped at him, struggling not to fall in the mud and uneven forest floor. He jumped over bushes and rocks, stumbled into a couple of animals, and turned in too many directions. He would never find his way back home. 

 

It was then that Paul’s foot was snagged by a large fallen branch and caused him to trip. He started rolling down the side of a hill, scratching his face and gaining multiple bruises. His body fell and the moment he reached the bottom of the hill, he hit his head in a large boulder. 

 

Paul knew no more.

 

* * *

 

The next time farmer Paul woke up it was in a soft surface. He felt...surprisingly good. His body wasn’t sore at all, he felt well rested and healthy. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Looking around slightly, he found that he was in a bed with many colourful pillows and blankets all over. “Where the hell…”

 

“Hello.” Came a cheerful voice.

 

Paul jumped and looked around madly. 

 

A man appeared and sat to the side of the bed, holding a steaming bowl of soup.

 

Paul stared. The man was dressed in what had to be described as robes, a psychedelic outfit with a cloak and a hood. There was also a pointy blue hat on top of his head, decorated in what appeared to be shifting constellations. A long earring was hanging from his left ear and his wrists were covered in a million bracelets, along with his neck. They all had weird symbols on them. The man’s bare skin showed that he was covered in tattoos, weird symbols as well. He was sporting a pair of granny glasses, which appeared to change colour every few seconds. 

 

The odd man smiled awkwardly and offered the bowl, “Vegetable soup?”

 

Paul took it without thinking. He blew on it, “Where am I?”

 

The man adjusted his hat, “Where you were, the forest.”

 

Paul frowned, “You live here?”

 

He nodded, “Yes.” He said with no other explanation. 

 

Paul took a few spoonfuls of the soup, having to admit that it was quite good. He looked at the man, “Who are you?”

 

“I am John.” The man said with a small bow and a wave. 

 

Paul smiled at the wave, “I’m Paul.”

 

John hummed, “I know. You’re the farmer.”

 

The hand holding the spoon froze, “How did you know?”

 

John chuckled, “I’m not a total hermit, despite what George says.” He smiled, “You plant good vegetables.”

 

Paul looked down at the soup, “You’re the thief!?” He asked, outraged. 

 

John played with his rings, looking unconcerned. “In a way, it’s George who does the actual taking.”

 

Paul didn’t care about this George. “Why I outta call the cops on ya!”

 

John frowned at him from behind the glasses, which had turned blue. “Why are you so upset? You grow for yourself and you grow too much.” He shrugged, “Besides, I give you the weather for such good crops.”

 

Paul put the soup away, “What does that mean?”

 

“Well, why do you think it’s so beautiful out here despite the city always being so cloudy and stormy? Why is the land fertile?” John raised his hands, “I’ve put a spell on the place.”

 

Paul shook his head, “What the hell-”

 

John interrupted, “Technically it was my aunt who put the spell, but I maintain it.” He raised his eyebrows, “You owe me.”

 

Paul shifted away, “Spells? Are you on something?”

 

John frowned, “Of course not.” He stood up, “Eat your soup.”

 

He left the room and went into the living room just as his familiar, Yoko, entered the house. John grinned, “Hello, mother!”

 

Yoko had been collecting herbs, the kinds John had a hard time finding. She put down her satchell and bowed to John as he did the same. 

 

“Are you tired?” Asked John. 

 

Yoko nodded, “Very. The wolves came out again.”

 

“I know.” John said. He grasped her sleeve excitedly, “Look what I found!” He practically dragged her into his bedroom like a little kid dragging their parents to the Christmas tree. Not that John knew much about ‘Christmas,’ it was a winter solstice to him. 

 

He opened the door to a sleeping Paul and ran towards him quietly. He pointed at him and grinned at Yoko.

 

The familiar gasped, “What is that?” She sounded horrified.

 

John rolled his eyes, “That’s a human, mother. He’d Paul, the farmer.”

 

Yoko glared at him, “Why is he here?”

 

John shrugged, “The wolves were chasing him, I was out looking for herbs and I found him.” Looking for herbs in the rain was most beneficial. 

 

“This is not safe.”

 

John groaned, “Come on, I’ve not seen a human in decades, mother.” He blinked many times, “Let me be excited.” It was true. The only people John knew apart from George and Yoko were Mick and David, wizards from London and owners of a wizard pub, Bob their owl, Elton the traveling wizard, and his familiar Bernie. The last time he had seen a human was when his aunt had taken him from his mother.

 

Yoko sighed but turned away in surrender. “Be careful.” She warned and shuddered as her body transformed into that of a black cat. She went into her bedroom to sleep for hours. 

 

John waved her away and turned back to Paul, clapping his hands in excitement. A human...fascinating. 

 

* * *

 

The next time Paul woke up he felt strong enough to stand up. He was alone, that crazy John nowhere to be seen. The room he was in was large and colourful. It had many carpets and bookshelves. There was a table covered in vials and old looking books, along with many paintings hanging round hazardly. There was an empty bird cage near a window, the forest glowing outside. 

 

The farmer went out the door cautiously, finding what looked like a lab of sorts. There were many cauldrons laying around and Paul laughed. Was this John an actual ‘witch?’ What did he do, mix shampoo together? He went beyond the lab through a doorway and found the living room, there were many little couches and cushions to sit on. Paul walked beyond past a row of tall marble pillars and gasped at the sight of three large chandeliers hanging from a glass ceiling. They lead to the main entrance, a large oaken door. But also to a raised...altar? 

 

Paul’s curiosity got the better of him and he went up the flight of stairs. There was a large wooden table covered in a red cloth. There were many thick books covering the surface along with candles, goblets, and...daggers. Paul looked down and gasped. The floor was beautiful. Drawings of runes and scenes of what could have been a fairytale covered the floor and make it lively. 

 

“You like it?” Came John’s voice, “I painted it myself.” He appeared next to Paul. 

 

Paul jumped at the surprise. He looked at John, “It’s beautiful. What are they?”

 

John was happy to explain, “History. Our history. Snippets of magic.” He started to point them out, “The birth of the constellations, the creation of Earth, the rise of the dragons, Merlin and the Once and Future King, the age of hiding...life.” John looked at Paul, “Here I have access to all that my ancestors have learned, their wisdom runs through me. Their magic, too.”

 

Paul stared at the man, “You really are a wizard, aren’t you?”

 

John gave a single nod, “Yes, Paul. I wouldn’t lie.”

 

Paul smiled then, “Thanks for saving me, then. Don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t.”

 

John shrugged and walked away from the altar, “Don’t worry about it, those wolves give me and George plenty of trouble.”

 

Paul followed, again with this George. “So you don’t live alone?”

 

John shook his head, heading away from the altar and the bedroom into another doorway that lead to what appeared to be a simple kitchen. He poured some water into a pot from an ornate vase and ran a hand over it, instantly there was steam coming out. “Tea?”

 

Paul sat down at the table, “Please.” He was amazed at how quickly the water had boiled.

 

John started looking for his tea bags. “George is my owl, he’s away with his mate right now. And Yoko is my familiar.” He smiled as he found the tea.

 

Paul frowned, “Familiar?”

 

John gave him his tea. “Familiars are a witch’s companions, their soulmates in a way. They choose us and once they do, we are bound forever. Most of the times they take the shape of an animal, but they can also become humanoid. Yoko helps me with my magic, and with other things.” He smiled, “She’s my friend.”

 

Paul put down his tea and sighed, “This is surreal.”

 

John laughed slightly, “For me too, I’ve not seen a human in decades.”

 

“You must go out sometime.” Said Paul.

 

John laughed more, “Of course not! Why would I want to leave the forest?”

 

Paul looked at the man, “How long have you been here?”

 

John thought for a moment and did the math, “Twenty-two years?”

 

Paul gasped, “Just you and those two?”

 

John nodded, “Yes. And my aunty, but she died when I was seventeen.” He shrugged sadly, “Iron poisoning, y’know how it is.”

 

Paul didn’t actually know but he didn’t want to drag up any sad memories.

 

John suddenly leaned close, “Your friends must be worried.” He knew about the horse girl and the man with the sheep.

 

Paul blinked, he had completely forgotten about them! “Oh, yes. Do you have a phone?”

 

John frowned, “Excuse me?”

 

Paul made a gesture with his hand, “Telephone?”

 

The man just frowned more, “Teleport?”

 

Paul gaped, “No, but can you do that?”

 

John huffed, “ _ No.  _ I’m no good at it.”

 

“Oh.” Paul said.

 

The wizard stood up and adjusted his hat, “I can take you back to the farm though.”

 

Paul followed him, “Ta.”

 

John grabbed a tall wooden staff as they reached the entrance. He looked at Paul, “Never know what you might find.” He said as if the human would understand.

 

They went out the door, there were lots of exotic flowers planted outside along a nice stone path. On the other side of the path were two horses grazing.

 

John pointed at the white one, “That’s Cynthia.” And the red brown one, “And Julia.”

 

Paul had no problem mounting Julia, as the horse was docile. He followed John’s horse as they headed out into the forest. 

 

“Careful Julia doesn’t step on any red mushrooms, the faeries won’t like that.” John warned.

 

Paul gasped, “Faeries?”

 

John turned his head to look at him, “Yeah, they have a strong presence in this forest. They help me with the difficult spells and rituals.”

 

The farmer shook his head, “This is insane. What else is real? Vampires? Werewolves?”

 

John laughed, “Werewolves have not been seen in decades, maybe more. And I’m sure there must be vampires around somewhere, but they’re mostly legend. Same with mermaids, but selkies are very real.” There was a colony up in Ireland, they sold magic algaes to John for low prices. George took care of the transactions.

 

“You mentioned dragons earlier.” Paul said.

 

John’s eyes turned sad, “Our friends were hunted to extinction long ago…”

 

“Oh.” Was the only thing Paul could say. “Sorry.”

 

John shrugged, “It’s alright, we’ve still got their wisdom.”

 

The rest of the ride was filled with idle chatter. Paul mentioned his dad and brother, talked about his chickens and horses. John listened more than talked, fascinated by this human’s life.

 

Finally the farm appeared and the forest was left behind. Noticing the sun was low in the sky, Paul spoke, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

 

The wizard was quiet for a moment but then John grinned, “Why not?”

 

The door opened before John and Paul could dismount and Linda came running out.

 

“Paul!” She shouted, “Where have you been!? We’ve been worried sick, I was about to call the police-“

 

Ringo appeared from behind her, “We thought you’d gotten lost in the forest.”

 

Paul dismounted, “I did.” He nodded at his companion, “John saved me.”

 

Lin and Ringo stared at the strange man. Paul couldn’t blame them, the cloaked and heavily tattooed, jewelry covered wizard with a pointy hat was quite the sight.

 

Linda floundered for a moment, “He did? Oh...I’m Linda Eastman.” She offered a hand.

 

John didn’t take it, he only bowed. 

 

The shepherd stepped forward, “Richie Starkey, call me Ringo.”

 

John bowed to him as well. “John...Stanley.” That was his mum’s and his aunt’s last name, though John never had need for it.

 

Paul clapped his shoulder, “He’s dining with us.”

 

His friends seemed confused but invited them in anyways. John made sure to hang his hat, cloak, and staff in the entrance. It was good manners.

 

Now that the hat was off, Paul could see John’s hair. It was a light brown, almost red. It seemed to shine as he shook it.

 

* * *

 

“So,” started Linda, “Where did you find Paul, John?”

 

They were seated around the dining table, John close to Paul. He was unaccustomed to so many humans being around him and staring at him funny. 

 

The wizard ate his vegetable rolls, “He fell in a ditch near my cabin.” He explained. “I was out collecting herbs.” He smiled knowingly, “It’s moonshine parsley season.”

 

Ringo tilted his head, “I’ve never heard of such a plant.” And he was proud to know many herbs and spices.

 

John giggled, “They’re hard to find. Good for healing potions though, Paul needed a few drops after his fall.”

 

Linda stared at him. “Potions?” She asked.

 

Paul let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, y’know. Ointments.”

 

John hummed, “Well, no-“

 

Ringo interrupted with a laugh, “I know what you mean, my aunt used to work in an apothecary and I’d name the bottles all sorts of things!” He smiled at the man, “Where do you work, John?”

 

John frowned, “...in the forest? I’m a-“

 

Paul clapped his hands, “Dessert! Who wants dessert? John, help me get it, would ya?” He helped the wizard stand up.

 

John’s thigh high boots were silent as they walked to the kitchen, but his jewelry jingled as they moved. The moment the door closed behind them John ripped his arm from Paul’s grasp.

 

The wizard glared, “What’s the matter with you? You interrupted me.” Paul had been pretty polite before, why be rude now?

 

Paul ran his hands over his face, “I know, I’m sorry.”

 

John sighed, “Why?”

 

“If you say you’re a, a wizard,” He whispered, “They’ll think you’re crazy.”

 

John scoffed, “I can prove it.” And he blew into his palm.

 

Paul jumped as a red flame appeared on the man’s palm. 

 

But John wasn’t finished. He started to whistle a soft tune and a little bird appeared in the fire, it was made of flame and it danced to the song.

 

Paul was amazed, “It’s beautiful.”

 

John blew on his hand once more and the bird disappeared. “It’s magic, nothing to be afraid of.” Paul had to know that, right?

 

The farmer put his hand on John’s, surprised to find it cool and not hot. “I’m not afraid, John. But us humans, we’re not used to this stuff.”

 

John huffed but nodded his understanding. “Okay, I’m an apothecary then.”

 

Paul smiled, “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

John was leaving. Dinner was over and he had to get home. He and Paul were outside next to the horses, John was adjusting his hat.

 

“Again, thanks for bringing me home.” Said Paul as John cleaned his glasses.

 

“Couldn’t leave you there to become wolf food, could I?” John remarked. He looked at Paul, suddenly shy. “Here.” He said and took off one of his bracelets. It was green and made of soft cord. He offered it to the farmer, “This should keep the wolves off you if you...ever want to visit, that is.”

 

Paul took it with a smile, “I’d love to, but will you be alright?”

 

John laughed, “Those fiends know better than to come after me by now.” He climbed on Cynthia and shook his staff, causing a bright glow to appear at the top to light his way. “Julian knows the way.” He said.

 

Paul waved his away, waiting until the wizard’s form was completely gone from view before he returned to the house. What a day this had been, what a perfectly odd and beautiful day.


	2. Down Down down To The Cabin In The Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellllooooo\
> 
>  
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL

It was a few days later that Paul took John’s offer and appeared on his cabin’s doorstep. Julia had known the way perfectly and had seemed excited to see Cynthia. Paul got off the horse and patted her neck, “Thanks girl.” 

 

Julia wasted no time in running to her fellow horse, whining excitedly.

 

Paul walked towards the door only to find it open. He worried, anything could get in that way. Warily, Paul walked in, “John?” He called, “It’s me. Paul.”

 

A cheerful voice came from the doorway to his right. “Paul! Come here!” It was John. 

 

Paul followed the voice and found himself in the room full of potions and cauldrons he’d seen priorly. John was hunched over a table, muttering quietly. “Hi.” He said lamely. 

 

John turned to face him, his lenses turning pink. The wizard bowed, “Hi.” He repeated awkwardly. 

 

Paul returned the bow and walked close, “What are you doing?”

 

“Oh, I was just taking care of Dennis here.”

 

Paul frowned, “Dennis?” He followed John’s pointed finger and saw that a tiny hedgehog was resting on the wooden table. “Oh!”

 

John caressed the small animal, “Poor thing got himself injured. I was able to get to him in time thankfully. He’s been here since my great grandfather’s time. He would be a great loss to this forest.”

 

Paul did a double take, “Sorry, since when?”

 

John looked at him, “Well, they’re immortal, aren’t they?”

 

The farmer stared, “Who are?”

 

“Hedgehogs obviously.” John laughed and turned back to Dennis. He whispered under his breath a purple wind surrounded the small animal before it disappeared. “You’re good to go, sweetheart.” He said and the hedgehog nuzzled his palm. 

 

Paul was amazed, he could hardly speak. “This is impossible.”

 

John turned to him, “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

 

Paul’s brow furrowed, “Is that-?”

 

“Lewis Carroll!” John interrupted, “Also known as ‘The Wizard That Fell To Earth.’ Of course, he didn’t fall from anywhere but I don’t know where the name came from.”

 

Paul gaped, “Lewis Carroll was a wizard?” So that’s why Alice In Wonderland was so weird...

 

John laughed, “Of course!” Then he picked up Dennis and walked away.

 

The farmer followed John to the backdoor and together they waved the hedgehog away. 

 

The wizard turned to him, “Now I’m free.” 

 

Paul ran a hand through his hair, “I, I have questions. Would you mind if I…?”

 

John grinned at him, “Not at all!” He walked back into the house and into the kitchen, “I’ll make us some tea and you can ask away.”

 

Paul smiled at the man’s childlike excitement, “Ta.”

 

Soon, there was a warm cup of tea in his hand. “Is your familiar not here today?” He asked. 

 

“Yoko? No.” John told him, “She went out to hunt, you know cats.”

 

Paul took a sip of his tea, “Okay, so.” He cleared his throat, “Do you fly on brooms?” He  _ had _ to ask.

 

John choked on his tea, “Gods, no. That would be very uncomfortable.” He smiled conspiratorially, “I did enchant a carpet to fly once though.” Then his expression fell and he seemed very sad, “It flew away…”

 

Paul held back a small laugh. “Sorry.”

 

John just sighed dramatically. 

 

The farmer continued, “Did you go to school?” Was he basing himself off Harry Potter?...maybe.

 

John shook his head, “Never. I learned it all from my aunt and my books here.”

 

“Do you need a wand? I’ve seen you with just your hands.”

 

“Some people do. My friend David has a wand.” John shrugged, “I prefer to just use my hands, but for stronger spells I need my staff.”

 

“I see...can you see the future?” Paul leaned forwards, “With like a crystal ball?”

 

John seemed bummed out, “Not me. Seers are rare and, frankly, very snobbish.” He looked down, “I’m just a regular wizard.”

 

“You’re extraordinary.” Paul assured him. He looked over the wizard, “Truly.”

 

John smiled softly, “Thanks.”

 

Before Paul could ask another question John stood up. 

 

“Come on, I wanna show you something.” And he walked out. 

 

Paul put his tea down and hurried after him, “Oh?”

 

John grabbed his cloak and hat before he led Paul to where the horses were grazing. Together they got on the horses and set out. They were going in the opposite direction of where the farm was, towards were mountains could be seen peeking out from behind the trees. 

 

Birds sang from their branches as they passed and Paul stared up at the many flowers that could be seen in amongst the leaves. “I’d never realized how beautiful this forest was.”

 

John also smiled up at the trees, “Now you know.” He said. 

 

But soon the trees parted and the mountains were in full view. Thes sun peeked from behind them and reflected on the lake that laid before them. It was still and a deep blue, almost unnatural. It seemed to shine where the sun hit it and it appeared as though a river form the mountains fed into it. 

 

Paul gaped, “It’s beautiful.” He whispered.

 

John got off Julia and gestured wildly, “The Lake Of Aisumasen.” He looked back at Paul and winked (With both eyes), “This is where the ritual takes place.”

 

Paul followed suit and stood beside him. Again with the ritual. “What exactly does that mean?”

 

John sat down on the bank of the lake and looked out into the water, “My aunt taught me to do it. Me and the fae cast a spell into the skies. Powerful enough to enchant the clouds and the wind and the sun. No harsh rains to drown your crops, no harsh winds to blow them away, just enough to keep the land fertile.”

 

Paul felt wonderment at the idea that his farm had been successful thanks to magical forces. “Why do you do it?” He saw no gain for John. 

 

The wizard turned to him, “Like I said, my auntie used to do it. The previous owner of your farm hired her to do it and after she died and he left I just...kept doing it.” He shrugged. 

 

“For free?” Asked a worried Paul, “Should I be paying you?”

 

John smirked at him, “You have been.”

 

The farmer thought for a moment then let out a chuckle, “The vegetables.”

 

John nodded, “Your ‘Shillinges’ and ‘Punds’ are useless to me, but I do enjoy vegetable soup.” His mother’s recipe.

 

They laughed together. 

 

John looked up at the sky, “It’s time to head back, it will go dark soon.”

 

They got back on the horses and headed back to the cabin. When they got back the candles inside were lit and smoke was coming from the chimney, but instead of being worried John just hurried his horse along and called out, “George!”

 

And indeed there was a black owl inside, standing smugly on his perch. John took off his hat and cloak, and Paul his coat. 

 

John seemed delighted, “Finally you’re back!”

 

Paul felt close to fainting as the owl flew off the perch and merged into a human boy. 

 

George was thin with pronounced cheekbones and bushy eyebrows. His hair was a deep black like his feathers had been and his eyes were slowly fading from a jarring yellow to a comforting brown. 

 

Paul blushed and looked away as he saw that this George was wearing no clothes. 

 

George frowned at him, “Isn’t this the farmer?” His accent was Liverpudllian but unlike anything Paul had heard before. 

 

John nodded, “Yes! Isn’t he lovely?” He shouted as he headed into his bedroom.

 

Paul reddened further.

 

George didn’t question it any further. He just bowed, “George.” He introduced himself, “I’m an owl.”

 

More than an owl, thought Paul. He bowed all the same, “Paul. I, er, I’m a human.”

 

John came back out and offered a heavy dark robe to George, who was quick to put it on. It was very large and he looked like a child wearing their parent’s clothing. 

 

“How was Bob?” Asked John curiously, going to stand next to Paul.

 

George went to lay down in one of the sofas, he curled onto himself. “He’s coming next month.” He yawned, “It’s his turn to fly. Where’s Yoko?” The familiar and the owl rarely got along, but they were united in their determination to protect John. 

 

“Still out hunting, I imagine.” Said John. Then he turned to Paul with a tiny smile, “Will you stay for dinner?”

 

Paul thought only for a moment before answering with a matching smile, “Why not?”

 

* * *

 

And so Paul found himself at the kitchen table chopping his own vegetables as John boiled some eggs. “So who’s Bob?” Asked Paul as he got to the potatoes. 

 

John yelped as some boiling water jumped onto his arm. He ran to the sink and got some cold water on his arm, “Ai!” He turned his face to see Paul, “He’s George’s mate. He’s the owl of my friends David and Mick.”

 

Paul thought about what the owl had said earlier, “And they live apart?” That didn’t seem right. 

 

“It’s their nature.” Was the only thing John said. “They see each other for a few days every month or so. They understood that when they got mated.”

 

Paul hummed and decided he didn’t know enough about magical owls to keep the argument going. Instead he looked at John’s bare arm, “Were you born with those?” He nodded at the tattoos. 

 

John shook his head, “No. I got them myself with a bit of help from my friend Elton, he comes visit sometimes.”

 

“What are they for?” Asked Paul. Maybe it was wizard aesthetic to have loads of colourful tattoos. 

 

John left the boiling eggs alone and went to sit at a table, “They’re to protect me, just like my charms.” He raised his wrists and rattled his bracelets. 

 

Paul looked at him, “Protect you from what?”

 

John sighed, “Wild animals, mostly. Dangerous weeds that like human flesh, intruders...witch hunters.”

 

Paul stopped chopping onions, “Wait, those exist?” It seemed like such a thing of the past, of the Spanish Inquisition or something.

 

John looked sick, “Unfortunately.”

 

Paul shook his head, “Why?”

 

The wizard shrugged meekly, “They think us unholy, unnatural.” He shivered, “Or some want us as slaves. Some drops of magic can come very handy in certain businesses.”

 

“That’s horrible!” The human exclaimed. 

 

“It’s why I don’t leave the forest.” Explained John.

 

Paul looked down at the table, “Your aunt’s iron poisoning...it wasn’t an accident, was it?”

 

John looked at him over his lenses, which had gone grey. “...no.” He answered quietly, “She was attacked and the hunter was never found.”

 

Paul reached out to take his new friend’s hand, “I’m so sorry.” He said. Then he looked down, “My mum died when I was a teenager, from cancer.”

 

John squinted, “From an astrological sign?”

 

Paul couldn’t help but laugh, “No, no...from the disease. Cancer.” Seeing John was confused, the human shook his head, “I suppose it’s a human thing. It’s when a cell gets out of control and starts to make too many of it self, they form a tumor which leads to well...bad things.”

 

John ‘awwed’ and nodded. “Like pumpkins, then.”

 

Paul blinked, “Pardon?”

 

The wizard was solemn, “A wizard’s greatest weakness apart from iron and salt. Even the smell can cause illness to us, to taste a pumpkin would mean certain death.”

 

Well shit, thought Paul. That was certainly dramatic. He made a note in his mind to get rid of his pumpkin patch at the farm. “Anything else that is bad for you?” 

 

John looked at him warily for a second but then relaxed. “Not too many things, really. Like I said: Iron, salt, pumpkins, there’s garlic but I have a quick antidote because I like garlic on my food thank you very much, and there’s certain symbols and runes that can harm us.” Then he shrugged, “And death spells, obviously.”

 

“Right.” Said Paul, trying not to freak out too much about that. 

 

John perked up, “The eggs!” He stood up and ran to the pot, then turned to grin at Paul, “They’re ready. Can you wake up George?”

 

The human stood, “Sure.”

 

Paul went out to the kitchen towards where he’d seen the human owl fall asleep. He was still curled up on the sofa, making content sounds. It was a pity to wake him.

 

The human reached out a gently shook the creature’s shoulder, “George. Hey wake up, man.” He shook him a bit harder.

 

It was a mistake. The boy woke up with a jump and with a ‘Poof’ turned into a frantic owl. Paul shrieked as his hair was grabbed and pulled by the angry animal. 

 

John came running out of the kitchen, “George Harrison! You stop that right now!” He started to hit at the owl with his hat.

 

The owl flew upwards and then came down, turning back into a human. And he was naked again, great. 

 

Paul picked at his hair and was relieved to see there didn’t seem to be any bald patches.

 

John put a gentle hand on his back, “Are you okay?” Then he glared at George, “What were you thinking!?”

 

The young man hunched over, “Sorry...he frightened me.”

 

John just sighed and looked away. 

 

Paul reached out to pat George’s shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

 

But John didn’t seem eager to forgive. He turned to George and hissed, “It’s well into the night, go hunt.”

 

The boy whined, “I thought I was gonna get eggs!”

 

Paul interrupted, “Really, John, I’m okay-”

 

John didn’t listen. He got close to George, his glasses red, and said, “Get out.”

 

George let out a sad hoot but did as told. He turned into a sad black owl and flew out from a window. 

 

There was silence. 

 

Paul didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen John angry, he’d looked scary. Suddenly the fact that this was a supernatural creature seemed more real than ever. The farmer looked at him, “You didn’t have to be so harsh.”

 

John buried his head in his hands, “I know. I’ll apologize later.” He turned to Paul and put on a smile, “Still, let’s eat.”

 

Paul followed John into the kitchen, the man’s furious look still booming throughout his mind.

 

* * *

 

After their simple dinner, John got the dishes to wash themselves and the two of them went out into the living room. 

 

“George is still not back.” Mentioned Paul.

 

John sighed, “He’ll be back tomorrow night at the latest. Probably went to his private nest to sleep.” He felt guilty because he knew how cold his owl was going to be there. The wizard turned to Paul, “Speaking of, it’s a bit late for you to go back to your farm, don’t you think?”

 

Paul looked out the window to see a pitch dark night awaiting him, “Yeah, probably.”

 

“Stay the night then.” Said John with a small smile. “You can take my bed.”

 

Paul shook his head, “Oh, there’s no need. I’ll sleep on a sofa-”

 

“You’re a guest!” Protested John, “You can’t sleep on a sofa. They’re hard.”

 

Paul wanted to say that it had looked like George had enjoyed it, but didn’t want to bring up the owl again. “I won’t take your bed.”

 

“Let’s share then.” Suggested John.

 

Paul reddened, “Oh.” He let out.

 

John didn’t seem to notice his awkwardness as he went into his bedroom, “Come on. I’m tired.”

 

Paul had no choice but to follow. The bedroom was littered with books, star charts covered the ceiling, and the walls were full of shelves containing vials and other containers. The bed was large and completely covered in twenty different pillows, all different colours and sizes. The quilt was orange and the sheets a neon green. 

 

John appeared next to him, dressed in a purple sleep dress that looked like it came out of a film set in Victorian England. Paul couldn’t help but noticed that it was slightly big on him and his collarbone could be seen along with his right shoulder. He’d taken off his glasses and most of his jewelry, leaving him looking (almost) like a regular lad Paul might have met in another life.

 

John caught him staring, “Yes?”

 

Paul snapped out of it, “Nothing. Just, eh, cool robe.”

 

John looked down at it, “Oh, yes. It was me auntie’s.”

 

“Oh, cool.” The human said. 

 

“I only have one, but maybe I could find something comfortable that might fit you.” And that was a big maybe. Because it was clear that the farmer was much better built than the wizard and the only clothes he had the might fit him were cloaks and robes far too fine for wearing to bed. 

 

Paul waved him away, “That’s not necessary, if you’re okay with me, heh, sleeping with just my underpants.”

 

The wizard shook his head, “No, that’s fine.” He truly didn’t seem bothered. He went towards the right side of the bed and drew back the covers. 

 

Paul cleared his throat and slowly started to undress. He took off his muddy jeans and his large winter jacket, then his flannel button up. His socks were slightly wet so he took tose off as well, making sure to fold everything for tomorrow. Dressed only in his boxers, the man went to the left side of the bed and got in. He sighed in contentment, the bed was heavenly.

 

John blew into the air and the candles went out. The were left in darkness. 

 

“Goodnight, Paul.” Whispered John. 

 

“G’night, John.” Returned Paul. 

 

And they were asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are greatly appreciated and so are comets.


	3. George and Bob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii  
> please leave a comment if u liked  
> its been a while since i updated this one huh  
> voices of freedom or So Bad should be next yay (or maybe not idk idk anything)

The next day Paul woke up with a warm weight on his chest. He blinked a few times and took some time to remember where he was. Oh! He was in John’s cabin, in John’s bed. And John was on top of him. 

 

The wizard was curled up next to him, resting his head on Paul’s firm chest. The farmer noticed that his left shoulder was completely exposed, showing off freckled skin painted with tattoos. One that depicted a gentle hand coming out of a lake was clearly seen there. 

 

Without thinking, Paul reached out and started to trace the image. His touch was gentle and it wasn’t until John let out a quiet hum that he realized he was doing it.

 

But John didn’t wake. He only buried his nose in Paul’s armpit. The farmer knew he had to get out of the bed or else it would get awkward. He stood up and got dressed quietly. As he buttoned up his shirt, Paul noticed a photograph in a dirty frame hanging from the green coloured wall. It was moving! There was a stern looking woman dressed in brown robes and a green pointy hat, next to her was a thin young boy with a wide smile dressed in purple. It had to be John. He’d been an adorable kid, clearly. 

 

Paul departed the bedroom and went towards the living room, he could wait for John to wake there. But as he walked he heard the sounds of banging pots come from the kitchen and curiously went over there. 

 

He found a small woman moving around the kitchen. She was dressed all in black and her hair reached her waist. She stilled as he spoke. 

 

“Hello, you must be Yoko.” Paul said with a small smile. 

 

The woman turned to him, eyes piercing. “That is my name.”

 

Paul bowed to her, “My name is Paul.”

 

She didn’t bow back. “I know who you are. You got George thrown out.” She’d bumped into the owl on her way back from hunting, the boy had been sobbing in his nest (which was big enough to hold his human form.) She didn’t need to know more. 

 

Paul faltered, “I, I didn’t want that. John was insistent.”

 

She only glared. 

 

Paul moved back a step as she got closer.

 

“I will be watching you very closely, human.” Yoko said. “If you think you can take advantage of John-”

 

“Advantage, what?” Paul gasped at her. “John’s my friend.”

 

She pointed a wooden spoon at him, “Harm him and you will know the forest’s wrath.” She hissed.

 

Paul gulped, “I won’t. I swear.”

 

Before she could offer a rebuttal, John appeared. He was dressed in yellow robes, his lenses a light orange. The wizard smiled at them, “Won’t do what?”

 

Paul stammered, “Won’t, won’t eat pumpkins. Yoko was warning me about digestive, er, bugs that I could get.”

 

John nodded solemnly, “Yes. Thank you, Yoko.”

 

She tapped her nails against the wooden spoon. “Of course.”

 

Paul turned to John, “I’ll be needing to go soon. I don’t want Lin and Ringo to worry.”

 

The wizard’s lenses turned blue, “Oh.” But then he smiled, “I understand. Would you like some cereal first?”

 

“Yeah that’d be nice, thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Breakfast had been nice, but Yoko’s glares had been hard to ignore. John had talked about his deer friends, Lana and Bambi, and Paul talked about his brother Michael. 

 

John had waved Paul goodbye as he and Julia set on their journey. Watching out for red mushrooms, Paul sang an old song as they went. 

 

Everything was well until Paul spotted a figure up in a tree branch, curled up and shaking. It seemed awfully familiar-

 

“George?” Paul called out. 

 

The figure jumped and fell off the tree with a loud thump. 

 

Paul jumped off his horse and ran towards the owl, “George!”

 

The owl was curled up in his human form, naked and covered in blood. He was whimpering and hissing in pain.

 

The farmer fell to his knees before him and rolled him over. He noticed that the owl was holding his arm, which seemed to be in an odd angle. “What happened to you?” Had John’s anger caused this somehow?

 

The young figure shivered, “Fo-ox…” He stuttered. 

 

“A fox attacked you?” Paul asked for clarification.

 

The owl nodded. 

 

Paul shrugged off his thick jacket and put it around George. “I’ll take you to John.”

 

“No!” George flinched away from him. “He can’t see me like this!” George was supposed to be John’s protector, not the other way around. The situation was embarrassing!

 

Paul shook his head, “He was worried earlier-“

 

“Please, no!” George shouted, pained eyes wide. “I need to be better before I go back.”

 

The farmer sighed but picked George up. “Alright then, I’ll take you to my farm. Ringo can fix you up.” God knows what lie Paul was going to have to make up but Ringo would do it.

 

George was quietly whimpering the hole ride back, Paul firmly holding him against his chest. When they finally arrived back at the farm, Ringo was nearby tending to the carrots. He looked up and squinted in their direction. 

 

Paul stopped Julia next to him.

 

“Paul?” Ringo was gaping at George.

 

“Please take him.” Paul passed the owl over and got off Julia. 

 

Ringo held the shivering figure to his chest and started to walk towards the main house, “Who’s this?”

 

“A friend of John’s, George.” Paul said, “I need you to patch him up.”

 

“What happened?” Ringo asked as he put George down on the kitchen table.

 

Paul sighed, “Foxes.” He decided to say at last, “Bunch of rabid foxes.”

 

Ringo frowned, “That’s odd.”

 

Paul shrugged. He was quiet as Ringo looked over the young owl, and winced at every cry George let out.

 

“I’m gonna have to set your arm, okay?” Ringo told the young man, “It’s broken.”

 

George shut his eyes tight and buried his face against a cushion. A muffled scream escaped him when Ringo set the bone.

 

Ringo hushed him gently, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” The shepherd said and turned to Paul, “I’ll put a sling on him and then go to town to get some pain relievers.”

 

Paul smiler, “Thank you, Ringo.”

 

The shepherd moved closer and lowered his voice, “So what really happened?”

 

“What do you mean?” Paul looked away from those searching blue eyes.

 

Ringo scoffed quietly, “Foxes didn’t do this. Was it...was it a boyfriend, girlfriend?”

 

George spoke up from the couch, “How dare you! Bob would never!” He was glaring mightily.

 

Ringo spun around, “Sorry! Just making sure.” 

 

Paul got closer to George, “Is there a way for me to contact him?”

 

George was quiet for a minute then nodded. “You can call David and Mick’s pub. He’s their owl.”

 

At Ringo’s confused look, Paul grinned and shrugged, “Delivery boy.”

 

George frowned but said nothing.

 

Paul went away, “I’ll go get you a piece of paper.”

 

“Wait.” Came George’s voice and Paul turned to see him blushing. “I...I can’t write.” He’d never bothered to learn and nobody had taught him; John himself had trouble writing.

 

Paul ignored Ringo’s glance of concern and smiled, “That’s alright, you can just tell me the number.”

 

George smiled gratefully.

 

* * *

 

Paul had finally gotten Ringo to relax and go back to work, with George thanking him for his help. And good thing too, because about an hour after Paul had made the call, he was startled as the window was broken as a brown owl burst in.

 

The call had been odd, going somewhat like this:

 

A high voice, “Le Awesome Pub answering!”

 

Deeper voice, “Stop calling us that, Mick!”

 

“Shut it, David. Hellooo?”

 

A shaky voice, “Uh, hi my name is Paul-”

 

“HELLO PAUL.”

 

“Mick, stop.”

 

“No.”

 

“Ugh. Yes, hello Paul, how can we help?”

 

“I’m looking for, er, Bob?”

 

“Well I never-“

 

“I’ll have you know he’s taken, young man.”

 

“What, no! I’m calling on behalf of George.”

 

“Aw, that’s okay then. How’s George?”

 

“Hurt.”

 

“WHAT?”

 

“A fox attacked him, he told me to call-“

 

“BOB GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE.”

 

“Where are you, Paul?”

 

“My farm is right outside John’s forest-“

 

“‘John’s forest’ huh? David, he finally made a  _ friend _ -“

 

“Bob just flew out of the window so I assume he’s on his way, Paul. Thank you for calling us and tell George we’re naming a drink after him.”

 

“George is a shit name-“

 

“Mick, hush.”

 

Paul had hung up quickly after that, thoroughly confused out of his mind.

 

But now there was an anxious owl flapping all over his living room; George was trying to catch him amusedly. Paul ducked as the owl came straight for him and winced when a thud was heard, the owl had slammed against the wall.

 

When Paul turned around, it was to see a short (naked) man with wild brown hair looking around madly, his yellow eyes slowly fading to brown. The moment he spotted the battered George on the couch, he ran to him. 

 

“Who did this to you!?” The man cried.

 

Paul raised an eyebrow, the owl was American.

 

Then the stranger turned to him with a vicious frown, “What it you,  _ human _ ?”

 

George leaned into his embrace and let out a soothing hoot. “He saved me, Bobby. This is Paul, a friend of John’s.”

 

Bob placed a protective arm around his mate and looked at Paul with grateful eyes, “Thank you.”

 

Paul smiled, “It was nothing.” He blushed slightly as he once again took in their rather undressed state, “I’ll leave you, eh, to it.” And he walked off.

 

Once he was gone, the pair started to rub their cheeks against one another with their hands caressing each other’s body. 

 

“Who did this to you, George?” Bob asked, still worried and angry.

 

George looked down, “A fox. I was distracted and...well.”

 

“Why isn’t John here?” Bob questioned. He’d always liked John, the wizard was too naive and nice to be dangerous but powerful enough to take care of George when needed. So why wasn’t he doing that now?

 

George shook his head, “He can’t know! It’s embarrassing.” 

 

Bob tutted and he let out an upset hoot. “I’m sure he won’t think so, he must be so concerned. Why were you out late anyway?” 

 

George smiled, “Don’t worry about it, Bobby. I’m just happy you’re here.”

 

They kissed, happy to have gained more time together.

 

* * *

 

Paul had gone outside and was preparing Julia for a ride into the forest. John had to know about George, no matter what the owl said. Hopefully, Ringo would stay away from the room and so wouldn’t question the appearance of another strange naked man. Besides, this way Paul would get to see John again. He was busy at the farm and should really not be spending this much time away, but John was fascinating, how could Paul stay away?

 

And so he mounted his horse and set out for the forest. Colourful birds flew amongst the trees and toothy squirrels collected nuts; it truly was a magical place.

 

Finally, he reached John’s cabin and let Julia run along to where Cynthia was eating grass. He knocked on the door and grinned at a toad that was next to a yellow pot full of flowers with butterflies flying around them. “Hello!”

 

“Croak.” Was the toad’s enthusiastic answer. 

 

Before Paul would continue this deep conversation, the door opened and John’s head popped out. His glasses went from blue to bring yellow. 

 

“Paul, you’re back!” He cried and waved him in. 

 

Looking aroud warily, Paul was glad to see that Yoko didn’t seem to be around. 

 

John seemed to know what he was thinking, “Mother -that is, Yoko- is out looking for George.” His brow was creased, “I’m quite worried, I hope he didn’t fly away to London though I suppose I wouldn’t blame him-”

 

“He’s at my farm.” Paul interrupted. 

 

John froze and turned to him, “Oh?”

 

“I found him on my way back, he’d been attacked by a fox.” Paul explained, face forlorn.

 

John gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. He’d caused that. He’d thrown George out and he’d gotten hurt. Hell of a master, he was.

 

Paul saw his guilt and put a kind hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright, he’s all good. I, his mate came over and is taking care of him.”

 

John turned towards the door, “I should go to him-”

 

Paul held him back, “He said he didn’t want you to see him until he was better.” At John’s wounded look, he hurried to add, “Not out of anger, I’m sure. He’s just embarrassed. I think he needs his time.”

 

John sighed, typical George. But he nodded all the same. “Very well then, thank you for taking care of him.” He smiled up at the farmer. 

 

“S’alright.” Paul answered and, on a whim, threw a wink at the wizard. 

 

John giggled and scratched his ear, but before he could say anything there was a strong knock on the door and a campy voice said, “Johnny, babe, are you in?” A dog’s bark followed this question. 

 

As Paul frowned, John’s face lit up and he ran to the door. It opened to reveal a wide man covered in colourful feathers and sporting a wide air of glasses bathed in glittering jewels. A small, brown, friendly looking dog was sitting behind him with his tongue out and smart eyes narrowed in Paul’s direction. 

 

“Elton!” John screeched and hugged the mysterious man (wizard) close. “Come in, come in, come in.” He practically dragged the man inside, the dog happily following him in. 

 

Elton paused as he spotted Paul, “What’s this, a human?” He aww’ed and bowed, “I’m Elton, the wandering wizard.”

 

John spoke up before Paul could, “This is Paul, he’s a farmer and he’s my friend.”

 

Elton walked closed to Paul and took his face in hands, examining him. He hummed and aah’ed. “Yes, I like him.” He grinned wildly, “It’s so nice to meet you, darling.”

 

Paul blushed, “Ta.” The dog pawed at his leg and Paul knelt down in front of him, “Oh, hello, what’s you name?”

 

Elton smiled down at them with lenses a pink colour, “This is Bernie, my familiar. And much more, really- I used to have this owl, Reid, what a bitch he was, truly.” He shuddered, “Oh my Merlin. I banished him, I had to! So Bernie is also my ‘owl’ now.” 

 

Paul jumped as the dog shivered and turned human with a poof, in his place was a young, handsome (naked) man with long and shaggy brown hair. “Hey.” He man grinned, tongue still partly sticking out of his mouth. 

 

Would Paul ever stop being surprised by this world? “Hiya.” He and Bernie stood back up and Elton covered Bernie in a brown robe. The dog sniffed it and then sighed in satisfaction, falling into one of John’s sofas while loudly panting. 

 

Shaking his head in amusement, Paul turned to pay attention to Elton and John’s conversation. The colourful wizard was delivering ingredients from the East and also some correspondence from some wizards who wanted to deal with the fairies of the forest. At this, John frowned. 

 

“What business do they want?” He grouched. 

 

“Now now, no need to jealous, Johnny. You know how things have been recently down south, the fairies there don’t want to work with wizards anymore. Besides, you get along rather well with the herd, if you know what I mean.” Elton raised his eyebrows meaningfully. 

 

John glared at him.

 

Confused, Paul asked, “Why aren’t the fairies helping out wizards anymore?”

 

Elton looked tense, “It’s been a growing distance for decades now, I’m afraid. Wizards aren’t always trustworthy, nor are fairies.” He turned to John, “But with your connections-”

 

The other wizard shook his head so vehemently that his hat almost fell off. “They’re not my connections,” He said, “They were Mimi’s.”

 

Elton raised an eyebrow and his lenses turned brown, “You know that’s not what I mean.”

 

To Paul’s shock, John  _ blushed _ . Avoiding Paul’s gaze, John turned away and walked towards a shelf, “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Elton seemed like he was about to say something but then he looked between John and Paul, and he laughed. “ _ Oh _ . I see.”

 

Paul crossed his arms at the inquisitive look he received, “Sorry?”

 

Elton ignored him and he went to pat John’s back, “Congrats Johnny, it’s about time someone popped yer cherry!” He kept on laughing and Bernie joined him from the sofa. 

 

As John frowned in confusion at the sentence, Paul reddened and clenched his hands. “We didn’t do anything last night!” He bit out.

 

“So you did stay the night?” Bernie offered from his curled up position.

 

“Um.” Paul walked towards John, “Yeah, it was late. Wasn’t it, John?”

 

John turned to him, lenses a sky blue. “Yes, it’s not safe out there.”

 

Elton huffed but raised his hands. “Fine,” He lamented, “Keep me out of it. I was just happy you finally got to the ol’ in-out, in-out with somebody.”

 

John frowned again, “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

 

Paul clapped his hands, “It’s late, I should go.”

 

The colourful wizard tutted, “Oh, don’t leave on my account-”

 

John interrupted, “It’s barely eleven!”

 

Paul offered an awkward smile, “I gotta get back to work.”

 

His friend ( _Just_ his friend)’s lenses turned a darker blue, “Oh, right. I’ll walk you out.”

 

Paul followed him and pointedly ignored Elton making a lewd gesture at them with Bernie giggling into his hands. Once they were outside, Paul walked towards Julia and took hold of the reins. He once again offered an awkward smile at John, “Bye, then.”

 

“Wait.” John took hold of his shoulder, “What’s wrong? What did Elton mean?”

 

Paul avoided his gaze, “Do you really not know?” He whispered. 

 

John shook his head, eyes wide behind his glasses. 

 

The farmer sighed and rubbed his eyes, cheeks and ears red. “He, uh, he meant sex. He thought we had sex last night.”

 

John’s hand flew off as if burned. “ _ What _ ?” He gasped out.

 

Paul raised his hand and bit on one of his fingers, head bowed. “Yeah, he must have sensed a tension between us-”

 

John’s jaw dropped. 

 

Paul shrugged helplessly, “Or not?”  _ He _ certainly thought it was there. 

 

The wizard was blushing and stammering, moved away towards the door to his cabin. “Bye, Paul.” And he closed the door.

 

The farmer sighed and raised an useless hand. Well, that went horribly. “Bye, Johnny.” He mounted Julia and they went on their way, no singing this time. 

 

John watched him go from his window, still red. Tension? Him and Paul? Maybe...it was too confusing. He brought the drapes down and walked into the kitchen where Elton was making himself a cup of tea. 

 

He’d figure out his feelings later. Much later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COOMMENTS r my children


	4. When Butterflies Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay update. please comment if you liked this chapter C8  
> also reminder that none of my other fics are abandoned and I am working on all of them. 
> 
> My tumblr is @fanficmoi if u ever wanna chat! I'm happy to chat with anyone and share ideas C8

“Must you leave?” George murmured into his mate’s neck. Bob was leaving today to go back to his masters and he didn’t want to let him go.

 

Bob held him close, “I must, beloved. But I’ll be back soon, alright? You’ll be all better by then, won’t you?”

 

George nodded and looked up at him. 

 

His mate dragged him into a long and deep snog, much to the chagrin of Paul who was Standing. Right. There. 

 

After maybe three to eight minutes, he cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again. A bit louder? Nope. 

 

“Excuse me?” He finally said.

 

The lovers parted lips and George giggled into his clawed palm. (He hadn’t bothered with a full transformation and as such, his hair was made of feathers, his eyes were still owlish, and his nose was yellower and harder than was fitting for a human.)

 

The two watched Bob take off, turning into a rather small brown owl as he went out the broken window. Paul sighed after him, what a world he was now a part of.

 

George stared longingly after his mate, hating to him see go. But as was their nature, they served their masters before themselves.

 

He turned to John’s human and bowed. “Thank you for your help. I can see what John sees in you.”

 

Paul couldn’t help but blush as he bowed back. “Least I could do, since it  _ was _ my fault you were kicked out.”

 

George shook his head, “John’s temper can't be helped. Wizards aren’t stable beings.” 

 

Paul wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t like it. 

 

“I should go to him.” George said. “He’ll be worried.”

 

“Yes, he was.” Paul told him, remembering the man’s concern when he’d visited.

 

George smiled youthfully, “Goodbye.” And in a flurry of feathers, he was gone. 

 

He flew through the forest, sweeping under and over branches, greeting the animals as he went along. 

 

The cabin was quiet when he arrived and as the owl looked up at the sun’s position in the sky, he realized that it was time for prayer.

 

And indeed, John was bowing before the altar; the smell of sage was in the air. He waited until the wizard finished his incantations and stood up before making his presence known through a hoot.

 

John’s head snapped up and he put on his glasses. “George, you’re back!” 

 

The owl transformed into a human and bowed. He had no chance to speak before John had picked him up in a hug and spinned him around. 

 

“Oh I’m so sorry, George!” Cried John after he put him down. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

 

George tssked. “It wasn’t your fault,” He said. “Stupid foxes. Paul’s small friend fixed me up.” He frowned as John reddened at the farmer’s name. “Is everything alright between the two of you?”

 

John smiled falsely and nodded madly. “Of course!”

 

George just stared at him.

 

John deflated, “...no.” 

 

His owl led him to one of the sofas, taking one of the blankets to cover himself up. “What happened?”

 

John buried his face in his palms, pushing his glasses up. “I’m afraid I was rather rude. I’ve embarrassed him.”

 

“I don’t follow.” George said with a frown.

 

John hugged himself, looking even more vulnerable than usual. He cleared his throat. “The other day Elton came over and he, uh, made some jokes.”

 

George shrugged slightly, Elton making jokes was nothing new.

 

John’s glasses had turned a bright red. “Um,  _ sex _ jokes.” He looked down, “About me and Paul.”

 

George hooted in comfort. “I’m sure he didn’t mind.” He murmured kindly.

 

The wizard shook his head. “That’s not it. Paul...he said he felt a  _ tension _ between us. I, I, a sexual tension.” He looked up at George, “Do you see that?”

 

His owl didn’t immediately deny it, as John had hoped. Instead he hummed with a frown. “I suppose,” He started, “That you would make a nice couple.”

 

John winced. “No, I don’t think so.” He shook his head vehemently.

 

“Why not?” George asked gently.

 

His master spluttered, “Well, for one, he’s human! And humans are, well they are- not clean! Not clean is what they are! And I’m a wizard, wizards have to be clean, don’t we? Yes, we do. And besides, he’s probably a very sexually active person and I’ve never done anything of the sort, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him-“

 

“John.” George interrupted sternly. “Do you really believe that? You should have seen how he acted when I kissed Bob, he was as red as a poppie fairy!”

 

John groaned into his arms.

 

“I can tell he’s interested in you.” His owl declared. “Are you interested in him?” 

 

John didn’t know what it was like to be interested in someone but he  _ did _ know what it was like to not be interested. “I...perhaps.”

 

George smiled, “Talk to him, then. You deserve to be happy, Johnny.”

 

* * *

You deserve to be happy, George had said to him. And as John saw the farm coming up, he wondered if he would get what he deserved. Following the faint aura of the bracelet he’d given Paul, John got off his horse and walked around the property until he found the farmer inspecting a batch of carrots. 

 

John walked behind him silently and then cleared his throat.

 

Paul jumped a foot in the air and turned around violently, swinging the carrot like a weapon.

 

Startled, the wizard let out a spell that disintegrated the vegetable and covered them in orange bits. 

 

For a moment, the two oranged men stared at each other.

 

John blushed. “Sorry about that.” He tried to smirk, “Now you don’t have to chop it, at least.”

 

Paul blinked at him, then a smile broke out on his face and he chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that’s a plus.” He was glad John had appeared, fearing that their past meeting would have completely shattered their friendship.

 

There was silence as each of them thought of something to say.

 

John suddenly recalled his excuse for visiting and dug into his satchel. “Here I brought this for you.” And he held up a jar with a colourful butterfly flying around inside.

 

Paul stared at it in awe and confusion. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” But why had John brought it?

 

John offered the jar to him. “It’s a minstrel butterfly. She’ll fly around the property, but never leave; they keep evil spirits away.”

 

The farmer smiled softly. Once again, John was giving him ways to keep safe. He’d gotten so worried about how he’d reacted against George that he’d forgotten what had attracted him to the mysterious man in the first place. John was soft. He was a soft, perhaps delicate creature that had been hidden away in a forest all his life. He reminded John of a nervous squirrel that, while curious to explore the world, could be scared away with just a sudden move. Paul has made a sudden move the other day, but the squirrel had returned. He looked up at John after taking the jar. “Thank you for this, luv.”

 

John grinned delightfully. He’d never been called that before.

 

Paul cleared his throat and avoided the other’s gaze. “I, um, I’m sorry about what I inferred the other day- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was just-“

 

John shook his head. “It’s alright.” He promised. “I’m sorry too, if I was blunt.” He blushed slightly, “I was just, um, freaked out? A tad. Because well, well I…” 

 

“Have never been with anyone?” Paul inquired tenderly.

 

John nodded quickly and looked down. 

 

“That thing Elton said, about your connections to the faeries…” Paul left the sentence to hang. He couldn’t help but be curious, but didn’t want to outwardly pry.

 

The wizard’s glasses turned brownish red and he sighed. With a nod, he spoke in a vaguely upset tone. “There was a human,” He said, “Called Brian. He was raised by the fae after a changeling took his place. I’d met him many times, but after my Aunt died he and I became very close.” Brian had visited every day, cooked and cleaned for John, helped him find a familiar, comforted him during long nights...he’d been a real friend. John wrapped his hands around each other, “A year later, he invited me down to the faerie realm. I was young, inexperienced with dealing with the fair folk, and I trusted him.” A grave mistake. 

 

Seeing John tense up, Paul led him to a bench where they could sit down. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk about it-“

 

John shook his head and took off his blue glasses. “No, it’s fine. You’re my friend, I trust you.” He cleared his throat and kept going. “There was a great feast and Brian, he kept encouraging me to eat and eat. I hadn’t tasted food so delicious since mimi had died, so I did. And near the end, with all the faeries watching...he fed me a Posadh flower.” He paused.

 

Paul rested a gentle hand on the wizard’s back and whispered, “What does the flower do?”

 

“It’s not what it does, it’s what it  _ means _ .” John mumbled. He took a deep breath and unconsciously leaned back into Paul. “The connection Elton was talking about is... marriage. I’m married to Brian and I hate him.” 

 

Oh. Paul wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t know what to say. What words could ever make up for that violation? “What happened to him?”

 

John faced away from Paul and sniffed. “He’s still down there.” He raised a hand and showed a red tattoo of a lightning bolt that covered his palm. “This keeps him away from me. After I escaped the fairy realm with David and Mick’s help, I made a deal with them. As long as they continued to aid me in blessing the land, I would not demand a separation.” 

 

Paul was seething. How dare that man try and trick John into giving himself away. “What a bastard.”

 

John chuckled wetly. “It’s not his fault. He could have been a great man, but the folk stole him and twisted him.” He shrugged, “It’s his nature.”

 

Paul didn’t understand how John could be so calm about it, but then again, he supposed it had been a long time ago. 

 

“And because of that,” John carried on, “I never sought relations with anyone. I...I’m better off alone.”

 

Paul moved his hand from John’s back and took up his hand instead. “No one’s better off alone.”

 

John put his glasses back on and looked at Paul. “I’m not what you’re looking for.” He whispered. “I’m unstable, you saw me. I’m awkward and rude at times, ignorant of important things-”

 

The farmer had to interrupt him. He took John’s other hand and squeezed. “John luv,” He said, “You’re exactly what I’m looking for. You’re a brilliant man who was done a great wrong. There is so much to relationships and love.” Paul smiled, “Please, let me show you.”

 

John swallowed as he looked into Paul’s passionate eyes. Maybe George was right, maybe John did deserve a happy ending. “I...I’ve never been kissed.” He admitted, lenses red. 

 

Paul’s eyes flickered down to the wizard’s lips and he licked his own. His eyes moved back up, “Can I change that?” He asked boldly.

 

After a moment of hesitance, John nodded. 

 

So Paul did. And if the flowers bloomed a bit more and the birds sang a little louder- well, John couldn’t really help it. 

 

* * *

It was a quiet night at the Cavern, with a mere ten or so people scattered around drinking. A strange face sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey and jotting down some words on a thick leather journal. 

 

The bartender could see right away that the man wasn’t from Liverpool, he looked like he came from the South- all cold and glares. Still, nothing wrong with a man doing his job. “So what brings ya to our Liddypool, then?” He said, purposely exaggerating the accent so as to maybe bring a smile out of the stranger. 

 

The man didn’t laugh and for a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t answer the question at all, but then, after shutting his journal, he looked up. 

 

The bartender stepped back and nearly dropped the glass in his hand. The man was missing an eye, with a long scar running from his long curly hair to where his neck met his shirt. He made a frightening sight, especially when he smirked. 

 

“Let’s just say I’ve come back to finish a job.” Said Phil Spector, the feared witch hunter. “I’m here to get rid of something…”

 

“...unnatural.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okokokok so i want to make clear that im not trying to make Brian into a bad guy, but hes a guy raised by the trickers fae who legit doesnt see wht he did wrong0 he loved john so he took him. but i love the real Brian, hes ma bae. 
> 
> hope u liked. please comment.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked the setup. more is coming soon.  
> C8
> 
> please comment. i eat comments. yum yum

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Wizard John](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20350396) by [Aurisarrian22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurisarrian22/pseuds/Aurisarrian22)




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